Sorrow
by Papergirl
Summary: Sorrow had been a companion of Gary Hobson’s for far too long of a time.


Title: Sorrow

Author: Amber/Papergirl (ambino1111@prodigy.net)

Disclaimer: The characters/concept aren't mine. Wish they were.

Category: Major angst

Rating: Oh, we'll go PG-13 though it probably doesn't need it.

Summary: Just a little tidbit I found hidden on my hard drive.

Author's Notes: I promise I really am working on rewriting/finishing up A Percentage of Infinity. Thanks for being so patient.

***** 

Sorrow had been a companion of Gary Hobson's for far too long of a time. Everyday it became harder and harder for him to remember a time when he was genuinely happy, or at least remotely content. The past few years had made it almost impossible for him to recall even the slightest hint of happiness.

It all started when Chuck left. As much as Gary wanted to be a man and refuse to admit how much his best friend's departure had hurt him, he no longer could deny the truth. Sure, there had been a few times when life was tolerable, sometimes enjoyable, but the times were few and far between. Brief flashes of his performance in A Midsummer Night's Dream, sparring with Brigatti when they first met, the crazy hostage situation with his parents, his exploits with Miguel Diaz, and meeting another recipient of tomorrow's newspaper flooded his mind. There were a few good times, he had to admit. But still, every time Chuck came back, it reminded Gary of the void in his life, of the drastic transformation he had undergone in Chuck's absence without even realizing it.

When Chuck got married, Gary started to despair. He had really lost his best friend this time. He would forever be occupied with his new bride and their exciting life in California. As if to prove his point, Chuck hadn't called or visited since the wedding. 

Gary tried not to blame Chuck. He wasn't really angry at him, anyhow. And he couldn't blame the paper either, though he did quite often. The paper never FORCED him to do anything. All this time, ever since the very first day, it had been Gary's choice. It was his decision to pick up the Sun-Times every morning at 6:30 and try to save the world.

But what had he gotten for it? What, besides occasional verbal gratification, did he ever get for putting his life on the line day after day?

Nothing. The answer chilled him to the bone, but it was true. He got nothing for what he did everyday. By now, the internal satisfaction of each save had diminished so much that he barely even acknowledged that helping others pleased him anymore. 

He felt hollow inside.

As he laid on the cold concrete sidewalk, staring up at the black sky and gray clouds amassing over his head, Gary began to realize the severity of his immediate situation.

He was going to die.

The pool of blood soaking his shirt and spilling out in a crimson river down the sidewalk was a sure indication of that fact. The struggle he was enduring to take in a breath every few seconds wasn't very promising, either. Maybe if he had been in a more prominent part of the city, a more popular intersection, there might be hope. But he was too weak and too far from civilization to be helped.

Even as he realized his eminent death, he wasn't afraid. He wasn't afraid at all. In fact, after all these years, it almost seemed like he was welcoming death.

He closed his eyes and tried to empty his mind, but his brain would have none of it. His mind was taking this time to reflect and come to terms with the successes and failures of his long, lonely life.

Without warning, his heart suddenly felt a pang as memories of a love he had almost had flooded over him. 

After he and Brigatti broke up, Gary hadn't given love a chance. Despite Marissa's constant… he wouldn't call it nagging, but it was close. Despite her urging, he had had it in the romance department. He wasn't completely alone - he had Marissa and the cat, but he just wasn't very social. Eventually, he grew lonely, but he learned to cope.

And so when he saved the beautiful brunette from the head-on collision with a semi, he wasn't looking for love. But, despite his protective emotional wall, she managed to become a very dear friend. Eventually, love blossomed, and she became someone he thought he couldn't live without.

That's, of course, when she was taken from him.

He had no one to blame but himself. No one to blame, not the manufacturer of the faulty wires, not the electrician who installed them, not the smoke detector for failing to sound. No one to blame but himself, for he had read the story in the paper and had chosen to stop the cruise ship from colliding with a large rock and sinking. He had tried to call her, had left message upon message, but he'd had no time to make it to her place and to the dock to avert both disasters. He had called the fire department, but they hadn't believed him. He had tried, but in the end he had made his choice. And he had lived with the decision.

Now he would die with it. 

As he looked back over his life, that was the one glaring regret he had. There must have been something else he could have done, someone else he could have called. But he hadn't, and he killed her.

Marissa didn't stay much longer after that. He never expected her to last as long as she did, anyway. He couldn't blame her at all; if he had been in the same situation he would have made the same choice. How could a bitter and angry friend who was never around compare with a fiancee who absolutely adored her? She felt incredibly guilty, she offered on numerous occasions to stay, but he couldn't force her. He couldn't make her give up her life, too. The paper was his burden, and his burden alone.

After that, life was a dark, gray haze for Gary Hobson, a haze so encompassing that he could no longer remember when he had last been happy.

With that depressing thought, Gary opened his eyes and watched the clouds glide slowly across the blackened canvas of the sky. He shivered; he felt physically and emotionally cold.

Gary realized he was dying. Really and truly dying. And when he actually acknowledged the thought, he was suddenly at peace with himself and the world.

As he struggled for his last breath, he could have sworn he heard music. A far off song, perhaps. A song of the peace of mind to come.

It sounded heavenly.

The End


End file.
